


New York, New York

by Tuesdayschildd



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Panic Attacks, Two Shot, Veronica has a much needed breakdown, archie is always there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14351991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuesdayschildd/pseuds/Tuesdayschildd
Summary: Veronica has decided to stray from the golden path her parents have laid out for her, and the subsequent drama is eating at her. Archie has the perfect way to perk her back up. Two shot, now with angst-loaded next morning.





	1. Pick Me Up

_If I can make it there, I’m gonna make it anywhere. It’s up to you, New York, New York._

Maroon shellacked nails struck a cadence against a nearly empty beer bottle. Veronica Lodge rarely drank beer, but Archie had left a 6 pack in the fridge from their last date-night in and she was out of Rioja. She downed the final few sips as Frank finished crooning his love song to the big apple, placing the bottle next to the other empty on the coffee table. She was stretched out on the couch in Archie’s purple NYU sweatshirt and a pair of black yoga pants, her hair in a rare ponytail and her makeup already washed off for the night.

She was in fact in New York, her and Betty’s uptown penthouse apartment to be exact, all alone on a rare warm March evening. The windows were cracked in the living room with a fresh breeze billowing the sheer curtains, making the flame of the cherry blossom candle lit on the end table dance.  Betty had rushed out the door with bags haphazardly thrown over her shoulders in a cloud of urgency an hour ago, shouting a quick, “I probably won’t be back tonight. This article is going to take a few hours and I’ll end up crashing at Juggie’s. Why don’t you have Arch over tonight and enjoy the empty apartment?” With a bubblegum smirk, Betty had disappeared behind the front door. Betty was oblivious to the thoughts rushing around Veronica’s head tonight, having assumed she was just stressed about midterms. She had yet another fight with her mother about college and where her life was going after graduation. Hermione Lodge was not entirely supportive of Veronica’s abrupt intention to go off the well paved path laid out for her daughter after college. Her mother didn’t understand her newly confessed ambitions. Veronica had finally decided she wanted more for herself then the safe easy way her parents had been grooming her for since childhood.

 _“Veronica,”_ her mother had said in that almost condescending tone parents save for their children, _“everything is already settled. You’re scheduled to intern at Vogue next semester. In fact, I just ran into Anna Wintour last week and she specifically mentioned she’s happy to have you with the fashion marketing team in a few months. She’s going to accelerate your career, Ronnie. You can’t back out of an opportunity like this.”_

Veronica shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that all now. She needed to keep her never ending argument with her parents out of her head to focus on her midterms.

She glanced down at her phone again for the 20th time in the same number of minutes. Her attention had been drifting since she sat down on the couch after class.  Archie was out at his normal Thursday night gig at the bar in Brooklyn, from which she had pardoned herself with the excuse to study.

She reread his last text.

 -That’s okay babe. I know you’re stressed about your exams. Let me know if you need company later. I don’t mind making the trip.-

She hadn’t responded yet, which she knew he might find unusual. Next to the beer bottles on the coffee table was a smorgasbord of study materials for all her various classes.  She really, really needed to spend tonight buried in the books, but her mom’s voice kept floating through her head and the beer she thought would silence it was just dragging her attention away from her poli sci notes. She was torn about responding affirmatively to Archie’s proposition, but at this point it looked like it would take a miracle to get her focused again.

A knock at the door startled her. She slid her feet into her slippers and quietly padded to the door trying to figure out who it could be. Betty wouldn’t knock on her own door. Kevin was out at some sushi place with Fangs according to his Instagram posts. Cheryl was still in London until Sunday. Archie wouldn’t be done with his set for another hour. Placing her hands quietly against the oak frame she leaned up to peer into the peephole. A flash of red hair startled her and she quickly flipped back the deadbolt and opened the door.

“Archie? What happened? Shouldn’t you be playing right now?”

His cheeky grin warmed her belly as he dropped his guitar case to the floor, quickly wrapping his arms around her. He bent her backwards, and slightly lifting her off her tip toes, planted a sweet closed kiss against her lips. “I got an earlier time slot. I was going to tell you, but then you said you were staying in tonight anyway. Betty texted me suggesting you might need some company?” He grinned again down at her. “So I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” she replied threading her hands through the hair at the back of his head. She couldn’t help the huge smile adorning her face. Archie set her back down on her feet, releasing one of his arms around her to move the guitar case further into the foyer so he could close the door. As it shut, Veronica reached over to turn the lock.

“I swear Betty knows me better than myself sometimes,” Veronica laughed, only partly sarcastically. Her B was sweet, always meaning well. She really was the greatest friend ever. She would have to thank her later.

Archie was dressed in his usual heart-throb musician attire that got him all sorts of attention at his gigs- a tight dark gray V neck t-shirt and dark fitted jeans sitting low on his hips. Veronica approved, as any attention was good attention for a young musician. It was also extremely pleasing to watch his biceps fight against the sleeves of his shirt and his shoulders stretch the cotton across his upper back. Getting a proper look at him since pulling apart, Veronica assumed he must have taken the stairs up to the apartment instead of waiting for the elevator as he looked slightly winded.

“Ronnie, I love when you wear my clothes, but am I ever getting that sweatshirt back?” He laughed as he slipped off his shoes and kicked them to the wall. His hands reached underneath said article of clothing to touch the skin of her lower abdomen, tickling her. She tucked her elbows in response, squealing. Prior to college, she would never dream of letting anyone see her in lounge wear- and definitely never sweats- but recently she’s been dressing down more and more. Archie had once said that she could wear a potato sack and still look sexy, so she wasn’t bothered by him seeing her like this.

_Now I’m out here looking like revenge. Feelin’ like a ten, the best I ever been._

A new song had started playing from the speakers in the living room. “Uh oh, is this your pick-me-up playlist I hear? It’s worse than I thought.” Archie teasingly smiled and walked backwards toward the living room pulling Ronnie by her waist along after him. Admittedly the playlist was a bit all over the place for anyone to deduce what she was feeling when she made it, but Archie always seemed to get the overall vibe of her various playlists and the mood she was in when putting them together.

The back of his knees hit the leather couch. He sat, pulling her forward into his lap. Knees on either side of his hips, Ronnie lifted her arms to rest on his shoulders, bunching his t-shirt in her hands. Archie’s hands hadn’t left her waist since she had opened the front door, but now they moved up to grab her face, pulling her forehead to his lips.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He let the smile on his face turn serious as he pulled Ronnie’s face back to stare into her eyes.

Focusing on his eyes, Veronica’s sharp eyebrows scrunched together. She hated to burden him with the same old complaints for fear of sounding like a broken record. They had spent countless hours with her lamenting about her parents and college plans over the past few months, and while Archie was amazing at listening and calming her down, she just didn’t have the energy to rehash it all out again tonight.

Picking up on her hesitation, Archie reached around with one of his hands to the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, letting her tuck her head into the space between his neck and shoulder. As he tightened his arms around her, her slippers fell off her feet on to the floor, and with them she let the breath she’d been holding slowly out in a contented sigh.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Archikins. It’s nothing you haven’t heard about before,” she mumbled into him. The smell of his cologne mixed with a little sweat tingled her nose. She inhaled and let her lips open a bit against his skin. His hands tightened further against her back in response.

Archie boosted his hips forward on the couch to recline deeper into the couch, letting his head extend back against the top. He closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of his girlfriend’s lips on his neck. One of his hands snuck back under the sweatshirt to touch the skin above her yoga pants, tracing patterns on her back. His gaze settled on the empty beer bottles on the table, beginning an argument of sorts in his mind about whether to push her more to talk to him or just let her be.

 He felt her tongue dip out quickly to taste his skin, causing a jolt to run down his neck, and as it did he realized that she was asking for his comfort in a more physical sense. 

A whiff of roses met his nose with a breeze from the curtains as his fingers continued to brush softly against the skin of her lower back. Veronica kept her eyes closed and her lips stilled on his neck, just breathing in his scent. They stayed in this position for another minute, listening as the song over the speakers came to an end. The room was then silent except for the occasional street noise from several floors below.

“Do you want me to start another playlist?” Archie quietly asked after a few seconds. “Or get you another drink?” he added with a slight hint of a smile. He felt her lips move against his neck and he presumed she was smiling.

“You’re all I need right now, Archikins.” Veronica spoke into his neck, validating what he had assumed. After a second, she sat up and looked down into his face, moving her hands up to thread through his hair. “You know,” She smirked coyly, “We haven’t christened the new couch yet.”

Archie laughed, and then raised an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting last weekend when Jug and Betty went out to pick up Chinese food? Pretty sure we did it right here.” His hands moved back to her hips and gripped her quickly, moving her supine on the couch as she giggled. Her ponytail fanned out across the seat cushion and he shifted his hips more square to face her. “In fact, I know we did. How could I forget that thing you did with your …”

“That doesn’t count,” Veronica interrupted with a grin. Her hands shifted to play with his earlobes. “Technically, that was the _back_ of the couch. And technically, we didn’t finish out here because our best friends walk too quickly and almost interrupted us.” She let her right hand brush down his jaw line to his chest. Reaching the bottom of his t-shirt, she slipped underneath and ran her fingers up his stomach slowly. “Unless you don’t want to play,” she said teasingly, tilting her head on the cushion, her eyes sparkling as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

He stared at her face, fought the smile that threatened to come out. Having been together for more than 5 years, they had perfected little signals between them on what kind of intimacy the other was seeking. With her last statement, he knew for sure that she wanted him to take the lead tonight. It wasn’t often that she asked for this, as his Ronnie had always been more assertive in their sex life, to which Archie gladly let her take the lead, or their moments were a perfect push and pull between them, passing the lead back and forth. But these rare instances where she handed over the reins were each perfectly filed in his brain, never to be lost.

 Archie reached up above her head to grab her ponytail in his hand. Pulling it down with just a little roughness, her neck extended, revealing a small sliver of more skin hidden under the neck of the bulky sweatshirt. A small moan escaped her lips. He leaned forward over her small frame. When his lips met her ear, he whispered, “Ronnie, I’ll play with you whenever and wherever you want.”

Veronica hummed quietly in delight as fire truck siren came in through the windows, a perfect back drop to what was heating up inside. As her left hand came down from where it was tangled in his hair to join the right one under his shirt, he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head on the cushion. Leaning over to level his eyes with hers, his hips shifted between her legs, his weight sinking her further into the cushion, her knees on either side of him. She was not shocked by how hard he was straining underneath his jeans, perfectly positioned over her center, the cotton of her pants doing nothing to dampen the immediate surge of deliciousness that radiated from the point of contact. She knew how much he enjoyed being in control, and her heart secretly did a little dance every time he pulled her hair just a little too hard, or his voice dipped to devastatingly lower octaves, or she heard the unmistakably sound of him ripping her lacy under-things in haste. The siren outside started to fade as the truck passed by the building. Another breeze crept across the top of the couch, catching the candle flame once again, which reflected in Archie’s eyes.

“Now take off my damn sweatshirt.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angsty continuation of our moment between these two love birds.

She was floating.

 

_No._

 

Sinking?

 

There was a weight on her belly and legs, but her upper body was hovering. Like she was half submerged in warm water....or floating in mid-air....but also dropping.

 

 _Maybe in a cloud_.

 

She felt like one. Weightless. Warmth surrounded her and tickled her skin. She couldn't see, but she could feel a soft glow, like dawn rising over the ocean end, the water still dark and its depths hidden. It felt like being in a plane in a dark, but quiet storm cloud, one second from rising above it to see the sun above the cotton candy in the sky.

 She wanted to stay here, in this feeling. Comforting, quiet. _A solace_.

Hrronk......Hrronk......Hrronk......Hrronk......

Veronica felt like she had been doused in cold water and jolted awake, eyes taking in her surroundings quickly. She was not in the ocean or in a cloud. She was lying on her back on the couch in the living room of her apartment, the fabric rough under her naked back. Sunlight streamed through the window. She felt hot and sweaty, her hair stuck to her cheek, and the guilty car alarm continued to blare outside.

She felt the weight on her lower body stir, Archie,  drapped over her. His auburn head rested on her belly, the rest of him covering her numb legs, pins and needles starting now that he was shifting his weight. The fur throw from the back of the couch covered him from waist down, intensifying the sweltering heat between them, trapping all his warmth inside and around her like a cocoon.

There were more empty beer bottles on the coffee table than there had been when he'd arrived last night.  Post-it notes littered the table and floor, covering the books like cheap wrapping paper. Her pens and markers were strewn across the living room, reminding her of their more careless, boisterous activities last night. Luckily level headed enough to remember to move the candle out of harms' way, they had continued their couch activities without regard for all the other less dangerous objects in the immediate vicinity, on the table...the floor...against the windows…

When Archie wanted to distract her, he thoroughly distracted her.

She had quit worrying about her mom, her potential internship, and her exams, as he wrapped her up in him,  diverted her attention instead to his body, her breath, their pleasure. But now, she felt that feeling creeping in again, slightly nauseating and jittery.

The car alarm finally stopped. Remembering it was Friday and she had a  9 am class she couldn't miss, she searched for her phone. Betty surely would have made a fuss if she had come home already and found them "violating the public spaces" again, so it couldn't be too late in the morning. She spied it on the edge of the table and was able to reach it despite Archie trying to stifle all her movements to do so. He was restless, shifting around mumbling, his head currently buried between her torso and the back of the couch. His legs were kicking off the fur blanket, giving her a nice view of his naked backside. His continued groaning illustrated his distaste for morning.

 

7:05 am.

 

"Oh, thank god," she groaned, stretching.

“For what?” came a muffled response. Archie finally picked up his head, his red hair shooting off in all directions like an overgrown wild hedge. The lines on his face from the couch cushions pulled a smile from Veronica, who sighed contently as Archie repositioned himself more against the back of the couch instead of on top of her, leaving his arm draped across her abdomen.

“For you, Archiekins,” she responded with a kiss to his jawline. “But also because it’s only 7. Plus Betty isn’t home yet to burst this bubble.”

“I’m glad I come first on that short list,” he replied, closing his eyes again, his head resting on palm. “What do you have today? It’s Friday now, right? I always lose track of the days after gigs.”

Veronica ran a hand through her hair, and started to untangle the knots at the end as the feeling in her stomach intensified. “Yes, it’s Friday. I have class at 9 and 11, and then I have to run uptown to meet Mom for a lunch meeting. She is killing me with her obsession with this internship. She’s trying to set up as many charity events as she can that will overlap with my time at the magazine. I don’t know what her aim is.” She turned to face him as his eyes popped open again.”If her plan is to kill me slowly having to rub elbows with every damn potential person she knows in the business, she is going to succeed too quickly. To misquote Pasternak “I have the impression that if she didn't complicate MY life so needlessly, she would die of boredom.”

“Can’t you just tell her that it’s just not going to happen? You’re not going to do the internship, once and for all?”

Veronica gasped. “Haven’t I been trying to all this time? What do you think I’ve been saying to her?” She leaned back away from him to see more of his face.

Archie mistook her exacerbated expression as confusion rather than annoyance and continued, “I mean, come on. You want to go to law school. What parent would be upset about that? She must not get it.”

“Archie Andrews, if you think I haven’t told her 1000 different ways, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“No, I mean how could she not support you in this?” His face was getting redder, realizing that he was barking up the wrong tree as Veronica’s face got more and more stoic in return. “You’re going to do great things. Having your kid become a lawyer is like a gold metal in parenting, right?”

Her eyebrow rose and with it she felt the burning in her stomach starting to rise.

He tried to explain further, afraid that she was taking _that_ question the wrong way too. “I mean if our kid became a lawyer, I’d be super proud. But… but they could do whatever they want…if they want to work in fashion, that’s fine, too. Or if they want be a teacher, or a musician….or hell I don’t care if they want to be a janitor as long as they’re happy and can support themselves….look at my dad, he’s totally cool with me pursuing music….” He trailed off, looking down at the space between them, his face now almost the color of his hair.

Veronica remained silent, just staring him down. She knew he was just trying to be supportive, trying to encourage her to continue fighting for what she wants. But after everything that they had went through back in high school, he still didn’t understand that her parents were not like his, weren’t always kind and supportive. Hers were always planning, preparing, trying to look 5 steps ahead.

To anyone else, this situation would seem odd. What parent would be upset about their kid wanting to go to law school? Archie was right about that. But her mother had a way about her, and Veronica wasn’t sure of the real reason behind the push back. Was it simply that her mom was upset she set up the internship for her daughter and pulled strings, and it would reflect poorly on her if her kid didn’t follow through? This was what Hermione always said whenever she brought it up. _A commitment is a commitment._

But that all seemed so superficial. And if Hermione really didn’t have some other gripe with this, they could discuss a compromise of some sort. But whenever Veronica brought that up, it always turned into a conversation about her future being laid out already.

There was a small part of her, just a tiny one, that was afraid her mother had another motive.

She sighed, closing her eyes. Images flashed through her brain like a slideshow running too quickly. Her mom’s face when Veronica told her she was running for senior class president, her absence at the assembly when her and Betty won. Every debate team event senior year; there is Archie and Betty, but no Hermione, _I’m sorry mija, I have too much on my plate right now._

But then there’s her mother’s face in the crowd at every football game she cheered at,  sitting right next to Mr. Andrews, inviting Veronica to accompany her to every gala, every charity event, giving her more and more responsibility with hosting.

“I’m sorry. Help me understand.” Archie spoke softly to break the silence, breaking up the pictures in her head. She felt the bile hit the back of her throat.

Veronica opened her eyes, took in his somber expression, noticing the sleep lines fading on his face. He had pushed his hair back from his forehead at some point.

He reached out with his free hand to touch her hip, a gesture that normally made her feel warm and safe. But his hand felt like a ton of bricks and his fingers were ice. She shrugged him off and felt the ache that had settled in her chest get slightly tighter. She couldn’t tell if it was the heart burn for which she had been popping antacids like candy or if she was finally about to combust, months and months holding it all in. She had a dream once that her mother was pouring her a glass of wine, and she kept pouring and pouring and pouring until the red stained the lace table cloth, the mahogany table, the Persian rug beneath their feets. She felt like she had just reached the top and all she needed was one more drop to turn into a torrential downpour. Her vision was starting to get blurry and she felt clammy, her palms sweaty and cool.

She was too exposed, bare on the couch with him like this. Sitting up and turning away from him, she grabbed the blanket to cover her chest. It covered her physically, but where normally the soft fur made her feel tended and sumptuous, she felt nothing.  Eyeing the mess around them, her eyes started to burn, as she thought about her exams coming up, the article she promised Betty she would write, the party she was throwing with Cheryl for Kevin’s birthday, and her mom right there at the center of it again, the burning in the back of her throat increasing and increasing.

She would not cry.

 _This is_ not _the time to lose it. Get your shit together._

“Ronnie?”

“I... I need to pee.” She whispered, afraid her voice would break, giving her away. She stood and wrapped the end of the blanket around her, hiding her body, hiding her weakness, and shuffled quickly towards the hall. She never did this, cry in front of him. And she wasn’t going to start now.

But she wasn’t fast enough. Before she could even the reach the hall, his arms were around her, turning her, tucking her into his chest. And the flood gates opened as the last drop spilled over.

“Please, let me go.” It came out more of a high pitched whine as she tried not to start sobbing, pushing at his chest, pushing him away. “Please, please, don’t.” Her lungs were burning as she resisted their plea to start gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. She no longer felt the floor under her feet, but she was somehow still standing anyway, still pushing his chest, pushing away with a tiny ounce of resistance remaining in her bones.

But he wouldn’t let her get away. He was too strong and she was too tired of fighting it. She collapsed into him as she let the waves take her, catching her under her elbows as her legs finally gave out and lost her vision to tears.

She was so, so afraid that her mother was trying to keep her under foot; that she had some secret agenda to stifle her from going out on her own, stop her daughter from becoming something more, something possibly better than her mother. Starting the third decade of her life, she was still treated like a doll to show off but never allowed to be someone. The stress had built up to a head inside her for months, physically draining, but to anyone looking it she was keeping it all together. Until now.

The tears were hot on her face, breaths coming short and fast. Drowning. She was still clutching at his chest when he finally picked her up bridal style, blanket and all. She felt like she must weigh a thousand pounds in his arms with the weight of her emotions. She felt like a withering idiot. Taking her back to the couch, she cried into his neck, her head tucking into the same place where she had found a slightly different kind of comfort last night.

He sat and tucked her closer to him as she sobbed. Her breathing became more and more uneven, and he started trying to verbally console her as his embrace didn’t seem to be helping.  “Ronnie, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

His apology forced her to put words together, she needed him to understand this wasn’t because of what he said. Between gasps she managed, “It ...wasn’t you....Archie. It’s .....just everything.”

Her breathing was quickly turning into a brown bag situation. The pins and needles in her hands and feet signaled the need to stop pushing so much air past her lips.

She felt like she had lost it. Forget trying not to cry in front of him, she was now on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

Archie abandoned cradling her to him and pulled her up to face him, taking her face in his hands. “Breathe with me, Ronnie. Look at how I’m breathing.”

She locked her burry eyes with his face, trying to watch his exaggerated slow breaths in and out. His lips were red and chapped, pursing out to show her how. There were blotches of red across his face. Where she thought she would see pity reflected back at her, instead there was strength, like he was trying to push his resolve into her. She was still breathing faster than him and her eyes kept tearing, but the burning in her chest was lessening with each breath she took.

She had him. And he was her foundation.

After a few minutes, a few more _I’m here_ ’s, she came into a more even breath tempo, their foreheads came together, like magnets. The blanket was still wrapped around her, where previously it was a shield it now felt like a straight jacket, locking her in. Unwrapping herself, her arms felt like lead and the fur felt foreign to her finger tips. She pulled it orward as she wrapped her arms around his torso, allowing it to envelope both of them, blocking out everything else, trying to block out the sense of embarrassment that was settling in now that she could breath.

Brushing her hair out of her face, Archie had started kissing softly across her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead. The tears were beginning to dry up and his face became clearer to her.

When she finally felt like she could speak without gasping, she started, “I’m sorry, it wasn’t anything you said. I just….it was…”

“Months, possibly years of built up emotion finally coming out? You don’t have to apologize, babe. There’s nothing to be sorry for. _I’m_ sorry I played any part in tipping you over the edge. I was worried you were just going to internally combust one day and I wouldn’t be around to help. You keep everything locked inside and that’s not good.”

“I’m usually so good at compartmentalizing, but this week as been too much.”

“I’m here for you. You need to let me help you with this stuff, even if it’s just listen. You always do that for me.” He was smiling a bit, and she felt the weight on her chest lessen just a bit.

“I know. I hate to burden you with all of this but I also hate when you don’t share _your_ problems with me, so I need to quit being a hypocrite. I...I don’t want to talk about it all just quite yet, now I’m just embarrassed.”

His smile widen and he kissed her softly. This, this always calmed her down. “Okay, I can wait. But that? That embarrassed you? After everything we’ve gone through? and done?” He was trying to get her to laugh.

Instead she kissed him sweetly, trying to tell him without words how much she appreciated him. 

After too brief a moment, he pulled away. “How much time do we have before your class?”

Resting her forehead against his again, she was suddenly very aware of their state of undress and the state of the living room. Their clothes and her school work were everywhere.

“I have about an hour before I have to leave. Probably less time before Betty gets home.”

He kissed her quickly, this time her lips barely having a moment to even feel his against them, his hair falling his eyes when he pulled away.

“Why don’t you go start the shower and I’ll join you in minute? Let me pick up our clothes.”

“Thank you, Archikins. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”She gave him a smile as she shifted off his lap.

Letting the blanket fall to the floor, she felt his eyes on her as she started down the hallway. It was chilly now that she paid attention to the temperature in the room without her furnace of a boyfriend next to her. A hot shower for two would be perfect.

She could do this, she could fight for herself. Especially if this man continued to stick by her and encourage her. They held each other up. He was that warm feeling in her dreams, the sun in her sky. With him, she could do whatever she dreamed.

As she turned the knob on the shower, she heard the front door open and knew her roommate was about 2 seconds away from an eyeful.

.

.

2

.

.

1

.

.

 

“JESUS ARCH, WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time settling this chapter out. I'm in a funk similar to V's at the moment and putting it into words can be difficult when down and blue, or sometimes result in something amazing, but more the former in this case. Hope it didn't disappoint too much.
> 
> Catch up with me on Tumblr @Tuesdayschildd

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> -AK


End file.
